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MYSELF 


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MYSELF and 1 


h 

HELEN VAN VALKENBURGH 

w 

III us tra ted by 

MAGINEL WRIGHT ENRIGHT 




PUBLISHED BY 

P.F.VOLLAND COMPANY 

NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO 


^ / 



Copyright 1918 
P. F. Volland Company 
Chicago, U. S. A. 
(All rights reserved) 



SEP 30 1918 

©CI.A503592 


T HIS “Sunny Book” is dedicated 
to all children, especially those 
who, having no “brother kind or 
sister dear or any other children 
near,” call a playmate from the 
Land of Let’s Pretend. 






PREFACE 


How nice it is to romp and play 
With happy children all the day, 

For nicer far are girls and boys 
Than all the loveliest of toys. 

But some have not a playmate near, 
No brother kind or sister dear, 

And when they want a merry friend 
They just pretend .... 

And lo! they have a playmate gay 
To romp with them the live-long day, 
Perhaps a girl, perhaps a boy 
But sunny, merry, full of joy, 

And all the things they say and do 
Would take a book to tell to you. 

So, here’s the book. The title? 

Why 

“Myself and I.” 



o 


MYSELF AND I 
Myself and I, at games we play 
On almost every single day. 

Myself, why that’s a little boy 
With big, blue eyes, brimful of joy; 
And I, — I’m just a baby girl 
With eyes of brown, and hair a-curl. 
You’d never guess the games we play 
On almost every single day, 

The loneliness is gone, you see, 

Since my own self is friends with me. 



tWKlC- 


THE WIND 


I heard the wind blow all the day, 

Such funny things it seemed to say: 

It called and called Myself and me, 

We hunted, but we couldn’t see 
Where it was hiding, though we knew 
It wanted us, ’cause it said “Yo-o-ou.” 







A BUSY DAY 
Myself and I sang all day long, 
Our little kindergarten song, 

Of birdies flying 
And willows sighing. 

And then we drew a picture, too, 



It wasn’t very hard to do, 

Of soldiers bold 
With buttons gold. 

We were as busy as could be, 
The very best of times had we, 
Till night came down 
And hid our town. 



THE EASTER EGG 

On Easter-day the bunny brought a sugared egg 
to me, 

It had a window in one end; when I looked 
through to see 

What was inside, a place so nice as that I’d never 
guessed, 

Under a tree as I could see, some children played, 
all dressed 

In pink, and blue, and white, and they were 
having such good fun. 

I like to look inside my egg and play that I am 
one, 

I let Myself look in the egg as many times as I, 

For maybe if he didn’t see, he’d go away and cry. 



« 





THE RIDE 

Now what do you think we did today? 
It was the very gayest play. 

We hitched the biggest rocking-chair 
Up to the railing of the stair. 

Myself and I drove swiftly forth 
To seek adventures in the North. 



Our reins were made of ribbons, brown, 
And soon behind we left the town, 
Through countries, never seen before 
We journeyed till the clock struck four; 
Then mother came with cookies, three, 
Some for the horse, Myself, and me. 


OUR GARDEN 
Myself and I a garden made, 
With my spade. 

We planted poppies in a row, 
Soon they’ll grow. 

And then we planted asters, too, 
Quite a few; 

And put in dahlias, one by one, 
My, what fun! 

Only it will be long, no doubt, 
Before the flowers all come out. 







> 











In daytime, when the clouds go by 
Across the deep blue of the sky 
They seem to be away up high. 

But when at night they slowly go 
Across the sky, star-bright, you know, 
They seem to fly down very low. 

I sometimes think they, maybe, are 
Too shy of every twinkling star 
That winks down at them from afar. 


STORIES 



I like to go to bed at night 
And see the moon, so round and bright, 
Creep past my window on her way 
Across the sky, till break of day. 

’Tis then, my very self and I 


Tell stories, while in bed we lie, 

Until the Sandman creeps along 
With silent tread, and dreaming song; 
He sends us down the sleepy road, 

All dressed in dreams from out his load. 



THE BALLOON 
The brightest red balloon had I, 

It flew so gayly in the sky; 

The birds were scared and went away, 
We had the gladdest sort of play, 
Myself and I. 




But my balloon had grown so small 
I couldn’t make it fly at all, 

No more could you. 




OUR BOAT 

The swing is a boat, and we sail away 
Over the ocean, green; 

The sky and the trees 
And the bumble-bees 
Are some of the sights we’ve seen. 

And this is nearly the nicest play 
That we have found for the sunny day. 






THE PINWHEEL 
I have a pinwheel on a stick, 

And when I run 

It turns around and ’round so quick 
It’s lots of fun. 


It looks just like the daisies, white, 
And it’s so spry; 

We play with it from morn till night, 
Myself and I. 



SHADOWS 

Once I was sick, and stayed in bed most all the 
day, 

And then I saw the shadow-things, so queer and 
gray, 

March back and forth, and back and forth upon 
the wall, 

I couldn’t think what they could be, so big and 
tall. 

Myself and I, we wondered as we watched them go, 

Then mother came — we thought that she would 
surely know. 

She told us it was all the people walking by, 

But still we can’t quite understand, Myself and I. 






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BEFORE THE FIRE-PLACE 

Most best of all, Myself and I love the grate fire 
bright, 

When the outdoors is fast asleep, and covered 
with the night; 

We like to watch the baby flames, as one by one 
they grow, 

Then see them SINK, and SINK and sink, until 
the fire’s low. 

The queerest thoughts come to us there 
As we sit in the great big chair. 



// 


SANTA CLAUS 


I wrote a letter long, today, 

To dear old Santa Claus, to say, 

That I would like to have a sled 
With shiny runners, painted red. 

And mother’d like to have a tree 
With stockings growing there for me. 
While father says he doesn’t know, 

But thinks a bush where money’d grow 
Would be about the nicest thing 
That dear old Santa Claus could bring; 
Myself just asked for candies, sweet, 
Enough so we can have a treat. 

I put my letter, folded square, 

Up in the great big chimney, where 
He’ll find it when he comes this way 
And bring the very things I say. 




GOOD NIGHT 
My mother comes in every night 
To kiss me, and put out the light; 
She kisses both my cheeks, you see, 
Because it’s for Myself and me. 




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Start a “Sunny Book” Shelf 
for Your Child Today 

Here are some of the titles of the Volland 
“Sunny Books”: 


SUNNY RHYMES FOR HAPPY CHILDREN 

Olive Beaupre Miller 
JUST FOR YOU Pauline Croll 

TALES OF LITTLE CATS Carrie Jacobs Bond 
THE LITTLE RED BALLOON Caroline Hofman 
THE WISE GRAY CAT Caroline Hofman 

THE PRINCESS FINDS A PLAYMATE 

Caroline Hofman 


THE FUNNY LITTLE BOOK Johnny Gruelle 


PEEPS 

THE GIGGLEQUICKS 
MYSELF AND I 
SUNNY BUNNY 
COME PLAY WITH ME 


Nancy Cox-McCormaclc 
Miriam Clark Potter 
Helen Van Valkenburgh 
Nina Wilcox Putnam 
Olive Beaupre Miller 


Additional titles are in preparation 



P. F. VOLLAND COMPANY 

Publishers of Books Good for Children 
NEW YORK CHICAGO TORONTO 




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